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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548708">Ruins of Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_my_toenail_collection/pseuds/This_is_my_toenail_collection'>This_is_my_toenail_collection</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amputation, Angst, Anxiety, Character Study, Chickens, Delirium, Drinking, Emotional Hurt, Established Relationship, Family Drama, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frostbite, Happy Ending, Humor, Hypothermia, Lucio needs a hug, Lucio's Route, Non-Consensual Kissing, Not Beta Read, Other, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Possible Character Death, Post-Canon, Protective Lucio, Pyrophobia, Regret, Road Trips, Sick Character, Snow, Spoilers, Swearing, Tagging as I go, Tarot, and a cookie, and it shows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:00:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26548708</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_my_toenail_collection/pseuds/This_is_my_toenail_collection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark."</p><p>With nowhere left to go after the events of the game, Lucio thinks of one person who would always help him find answers. When he asks MC what he's supposed to do, they tell him to go home.</p><p>Home can be more treacherous for some than others.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader, Lucio (The Arcana)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>130</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah the start of another story, this is always my favorite part &lt;3</p><p>Remember to leave a comment if you can!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The walk was long, and the day was cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio had nowhere to go when his Countship was forcefully revoked, apparently apologizing and promising to try harder wasn't enough to undo the selfish things he'd done to his city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Completely unfair, in his opinion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did, however, persuade his lovely Noddy to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> banish him forever from Vesuvia and all affiliated territories. This seemed like a blessing at first but he learned quickly that not everyone was so lenient with their perception of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was rejected wherever he went, if he wasn't being glared at he was being </span>
  <em>
    <span>laughed </span>
  </em>
  <span>at. It came to the point where he had to realize, without his title he kinda didn't like Vesuvia at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to leave, but he had nowhere to go. So he walked through the dark streets of Vesuvia to the one place he knew would welcome him. The one place he could think of that was still semi-safe to rest his head and catch his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Provided Asra wasn't there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed to be in luck; knocking on the well worn door to the magic shop, it was not the irritable magician that greeted him but his forgiving apprentice. The one that saved Lucio's life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"MC!" Lucio threw his arms around you in excitement, he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fancy meeting you here, love" your voice held a smile. Even though it was muffled by Lucios fur-lined cape, it was music to his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leading the former count inside you finished locking up for the night before making some tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You got any pastries to go with this?" Lucio asked cheekily from behind his cup. You just smirk knowingly as you set a plate of spiced cookies on the table, having already retrieved them before he thought to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing gets past you" you rolled your eyes as he took the whole plate instead of just one. "Well when it comes to cookies, in any case."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I jusht havf a way ovf kgnowin" he says through bites of the thin pastries, far more interested in them than the tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In truth you usually wouldn't be so comforting when he came to visit, but today was different. The way he threw himself into your arms at the door spoke to a serious issue weighing on him. You were patient, but not so patient as to avoid asking outright, so that's what you did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Something on your mind?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No no…" he's always the worst at telling lies, his nerves are written all over his tense smile and avoiding eyes. "Nothing gets under my skin, love, you know that"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You set down your cup with a sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Last time you tried this we had to get it out the hard way, this time you wanna try the easy way?" You fix him with a stare and he withers slightly. You always make it so hard to play his usual games, perhaps that's why he fell in love with you. Because you wouldn't let him get away with things. He thought back to the aforementioned 'hard way' and remembered it all too well. With an audible gulp he concedes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You usually know better anyway…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Write that down so you don't forget," you pick up your teacup again, playfully swirling the contents. "So, what is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I miss home" he said it so suddenly, his eyes wandering the now-empty plate as if it were the most interesting piece of ceramic he'd ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Home?" You raise an eyebrow, home could mean a lot of things. Especially in the context of Lucios life so far. "Where's home?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The palace...or maybe just being Count" he seemed just as unsure of the definition, his metal hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You miss ruling?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No ruling sucked, I just wanna do whatever I want again." He scowled bitterly into his cup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's stopping you?" You press lightly. His confusion was obvious, perhaps he'd been avoiding his negative thoughts again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The fact that no one likes me,"  he comes up with the words after a few minutes deliberation. You nod slightly and drain the last of your tea in thought. He can't do what he wants because what he wants is to be liked. That's what he means by home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That feeling of belonging, that's what you miss" you muse outloud. Tone framing the words not as fact, but as an interpretation presented for his scrutiny. He nods suddenly, licking his human finger and using it to gather the crumbs off the plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah! No one likes me but you, and I don't have anywhere to go anymore so…" he trails off for a moment before a wicked grin spreads across his face. "MC, I should stay with you!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" You nearly drop the dishes you had been collecting from the small table. "Why would you think that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because then I'd have a home again, with someone who loves me and all that. Don't you love me?" He ends with a pleading expression, but you are not moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I do, but you can't stay here, it's a one person apartment that I already share with someone."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well kick Asra out then I'm sure he's got someone to go to, I know Jules is always looking for someone to warm his bed"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not kicking out Asra"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whaaat? But MCCCCCC" he whines, leaning back dramatically in his chair. "He doesn't even pay rent, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>can pay rent"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The answer's still no, there's no getting around it." Lucio leans forward, dropping his chin into his hand and pouting. After a moment of you refusing to budge he sighs heavily and sits back up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well then what am I supposed to do?" He asks softly. You have no doubt that he's skilled enough to start over and find a new life, but no one should have to live amongst people who hate them. Even if he does deserve the backlash. You rack your brain for something you can do to help and remember something seemingly obvious. You're a Magician.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How about we ask the cards?"</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Cards?!" He jumps a bit before floundering. "With like… those arcana guys? I think I've had enough of them, thank you." He shakes his head and goes back to leaning dramatically off his chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're not making any deals, we're just asking for guidance." You explain softly, he still looks skeptical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well what do we have to give them for this 'guidance'?" He hisses slightly, obviously wary of any more shady business with the arcana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing, and they don't have to answer. They just might if they feel like it" you explain, already shuffling the deck in front of you. He eyes it with quiet panic before speaking up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So we're asking for like...wisdom handouts?" He asks, voice somewhere between disgust and fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You just nod with a drawn-out "mmmhhmmmmm" as you cut the deck and start placing down cards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey! stop that nonsense" he gestures wildly and vaguely to the cards as you work, this does nothing to deter you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pick one" you gesture to the three cards you've placed. He looks quickly from the cards to you and back. He says nothing. "You don't have to" you give him an out. He just shakes his head and let's his hand hover over each card. His other hand comes up to stroke nervously at his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhhhh umumumumum…" his eyes flit quickly between the choices before he finally gives up and closes his eyes, picking one at random.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, you have a question in mind?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't say I needed a question"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No rush" you take his hand across the table "just take a minute to think of one"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok…" he deliberates for several long moments, hemming and hawing and eventually getting up to pace. After an almost comically serious bit of introspection he sits back down and takes a deep breath. "Ok I got one"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very good" you pick the card from the table and look at it for a moment not showing it to Lucio. "Well?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh! Uh ehem...why…" he hesitates for a moment, looking almost embarrassed before he steals his resolve. "Why does... everyone still hate me?" He asks cautiously, it takes everything you have to hold back the laughter at the card he chose for the question. You still can't hold back a particularly insistent snort. You ignore his glare as you set the card on the table, revealing to him the devil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well what does that mean?!" He seems doubly afraid as he can't tear his eyes from the too-familiar goat. You're still holding back snickers as the devil only hisses one message in your mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He says 'why do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span>?'" you break half way through the sentence and almost fall to the floor through your gasping. Lucios face goes red and he slaps the card off the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine that question was pretty stupid." He concedes, ears still burning. You manage to collect yourself and pick the card from the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Heh... alright alright try again"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whaaat?" He moans tiredly but he doesn't protest further. His pointer bounces between the two remaining cards as he mumbles "eeny meeny miney moe, catch a musk bear by its toe…" he eventually settles on a card and goes about thinking of another question. This time he asks without prompting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What am I doing wrong?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You blink lightly in surprise before flipping the chosen card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you shuffled this wrong" he smirks as he looks at the upside-down world card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The world, reversed" you explain softly, focusing inward to hear the breathy voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well what doe–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shh"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You slap a hand to his mouth and he shuts up. You close your eyes and concentrate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She says, 'your history haunts you but you refuse to acknowledge it, you can't expect closure without looking back'" when you open your eyes Lucio is scowling at the card.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't need </span>
  <em>
    <span>closure, </span>
  </em>
  <span>I need to find somewhere else to go," he mutters to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's exactly what she means, you can't keep hiding from where you come from. Your view of home is warped because you've run so far from your first home"</span>
</p><p><span>"You mean...ˢᵒᵘᵗʰˀ</span>" He says 'south' like it's a swear word "cause that place was never home" </p><p>
  <span>"I'm surprised you remember how supposedly bad it was with how thoroughly you've tried to block it out" you rest your elbow on the table, side eyeing Lucio playfully. He just scoffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever, there's still one more of your witchy cards left" he changes the subject less-than-smoothly, gesturing to the final card on the table. "And I already have a question"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"By all means" you pick the card up and wait for him to speak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What do I do now?" He asks heavily. This question wasn't like the others. The weight of intention behind it was staggering, so much more behind the words than what they convey. He was asking a lot with a single inquiry, you flick the card into the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hermit speaks no words, as usual, he simply seems to nod in a vague direction in your head before he leaves with no preamble. You follow his gentle guidance for a moment, thoughts forming an instruction too intricate to really put into words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nice bear" Lucio says idly as he stares at the card, you shake yourself back to reality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The hermit, he usually deals with journeys of introspection and self discovery."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ok…" Lucio looks around for a moment, "but what do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well the readings are never so straight forward as to just give you the answers, you have to interpret it yourself." You reshuffle the chosen cards back into the deck, Lucio watching your hands as you do. "What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>think you have to do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio drums on the table for a bit while he thinks. His face scrunches up and you can almost see the gears in his head turning.</span>
</p><p><span>"The bear said I gotta do a "journey of introspection</span>" however you do that...and the upside down one said I need to think more about my past? Did I get that right?"</p><p>
  <span>"That's the gist"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I gotta go somewhere to rethink stuff…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Somewhere?" You ask, still not pushing too hard. You know he can figure it out on his own. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Somewhere...back…" his face drains of color as his eyes open again, face unscrunching. "Back where I started," he finishes, looking ill. You put the reshuffled deck back in your pocket and stand from the table to wash the dishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio puts his head on the table to sulk, you hope his answers are what he was looking for.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"So… south" Lucio stands with you on the outskirts of the city, spinning in a slow circle as he surveys the terrain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Earlier you'd made the mistake of suggesting a guide, Lucio seemed to take it as a direct attack on his tracking skills. In a half-baked attempt to prove he knew where he was going he dragged you out here. He continued spinning for a moment before pointing at the sea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well that's the sea…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mmm...yes I would've never spotted it without your help"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do that?" He sneers, obviously still irritated by your doubt. You do in fact have to give him a hard time, so you continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have to do a lot of stuff...like standing in a field in the middle of nowhere" you cross your arms with a smirk. He steps closer, looming over you with thinly veiled rage. "And following you around while you fail to find a </span>
  <em>
    <span>cardinal direction</span>
  </em>
  <span>" you prod harder, pulse beating hard in your ears as he grows angrier. He's not often so quiet as he looks you up and down, suddenly a smile breaks out on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're trying to rile me up you dastardly thing" his sharp smile chases the irritation from his features as he grips you tightly. "You really wanna face the consequences of that?" He leans close, voice somewhere between a dangerous growl and an excited purr.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Keep your eyes on the horizon, beloved" you twist expertly out of his grip, standing behind him and resting your arms around his waist. "You'll have time to punish me after you're done proving yourself or whatever nonsense this is." You murmur in his ear, kissing his neck lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel a shiver run up his body at the contact, his voice is strained as he speaks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well uh...I was saying there's the sea…" the anger is completely gone from him now and he has trouble keeping on topic. "The sea is in the East so South is...over there…" he points out into the distance. You seize the opportunity, moving one hand from his waist to his outstretched hand. You kiss down his shoulder, rubbing his hand affectionately. It's all it takes for him to melt into your arms, dopey smile spread across his face as he nuzzles into your kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not making this easy"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah…" you murmur against his skin and he shivers again. "But I kinda just wanna head back, can we?" You ask sweetly, nipping playfully at his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ahh! Hey MC..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should just go back and relax for a while, we can get a guide later...that way you don't</span>
  <em>
    <span> have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to find your way back on your own." You leave one last kiss on his skin as you walk around to face him. Trailing your hand over his shoulder as you do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That sounds like a good plan" he agrees readily, face flushed from your flirtatious persuasion. You almost feel bad manipulating him so easily, but he knows what you're doing and he gives in to it willingly. With an indulgent smile you take his hand and guide him back towards the city. He follows you eagerly, practically wagging his tail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>0</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you came to <em>me</em> for help?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The imposing woman sat uncomfortably in your shop, seemingly not used to so many pretty and useless looking things. Morga had not been your first choice of guide given her and Lucios strained relationship, but she was from the village you're looking for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only survivor, in fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who else would I ask?" You inquire politely, Morga scowls at the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone with nothing better to do" she spits, "he really doesn't remember the way South?" She looks a bit disappointed but in no way does she seem surprised by his incompetence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well what would he have found if he had turned back?" You ask, a bit colder than you intend to. She bares her teeth at the unspoken offense but seems to decide it's not worth it, instead she gets up from her chair and begins to pace. Her grumbling as she stomps is hilariously familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well where's he now?" She eventually asks, her knuckles white from the grip on her spear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's off getting his stuff from around town, I thought it'd be best if he didn't know </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>were acting as a guide just yet" you answer her evenly, unsure of how she'll react to your meeting being near-secret. She narrows her eyes and stares for a long moment before her mouth splits in a sharp grin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good to see you've actually met Montag, that boy would sooner die in a blizzard than listen to me." She finishes with a laugh like a bark, no real humor behind the noise. "But I still haven't agreed to this ridiculous jaunt you've planned through the most treacherous land possible." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You won't do it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why is he even doing this?" She changes the question. "Why would he want to go back to the place that kicked him out? And a place that's been empty for years?" She shakes her head slowly as she speaks, eyes fixing on some distant point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He really doesn't want to, but he's out of options" you fold your arms, leaning back. "The cards told him to"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your hacky, fortune telling cards?" She sneers with completely unhidden contempt at the thought, you decide not to take it personally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Those are the ones" you quip, satisfied to leave it there before a thought hits you. "Actually you might be able to help me interpret it, they told him to go home but they said a lot more than that." You lean forward as you try to lay out what you mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know how to read your wishy-washy...sparkly...nothing magic" she waves her hand dismissively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No...but you know more about Lucio's background, you're his mother." She sits back down slowly as you continue. "See the interpretation I've gleaned is that there's something back at the beginning of his journey that he was supposed to learn from, something he forgot or just never got the lesson. Do you have any idea what that could be?" You throw the conversation to her in hopes she'll have some new information, she doesn't even dwell on it before she answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He never learned to face hardship, I coddled him all his life and then when I chased him away he found lifestyles that would do the same. Count, murderer for hire, whatever would pay for things he'd do anyway." She closed her eyes, her words weren't difficult for her to say but something in her voice implied they were once upon a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That lines up" you nod in satisfaction, "perhaps this excursion could become a second chance of sorts, for both you and Lucio."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't get your hopes up" she chuckles mirthlessly, "if I thought I still had a chance to fix that boy I wouldn't have resolved to kill 'im" she gets up and heads for the door, apparently deciding the conversation was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well will you lead us?" You ask her retreating stride, she stops suddenly at the question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Us? </span>
  </em>
  <span>You didn't say anything about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> going" she sneers over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that a problem?" You shoot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Actually it is" she turns to you more as she speaks. "I'm skeptical </span>
  <em>
    <span>Montag</span>
  </em>
  <span> has the grit to make it back to our village, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you'll</span>
  </em>
  <span> die before we even hit the steppe" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You underestimate me," your voice holds no hesitation. You remember the visions of the south you saw when you traversed the magical realms with Lucio, you remember the twisting landscape of the merged realms as you searched for the world-turtle, the harsh Lazaret island you supposedly died on before being resurrected from the grave. "I've survived far worse than the scourgelands"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morga holds your gaze for a moment, searching for something. She seems to find it as she closes her eyes with another sharp smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have a weathered soul, magician. Very well." She concedes, a strange sense of pride welling within you at the recognition. "But if you slow us down I'll leave you behind to freeze." She laughs as she exits the shop.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Oh how Morga regretted agreeing to this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting Montag to agree was a task in itself, he whined and threatened and outright refused. In the end it was you who managed to convince him it was a good idea. The same way you convinced Morga to guide you in the first place. You're just so damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>convincing </span>
  </em>
  <span>aren't you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now Morga was regretting ever considering such a foolish trip. The destination was barren, the company was incompetent, even the timing was wrong. It was the middle of the winter storm season and the winds spelled the exact trouble you'd expect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why had she agreed to this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through the first few days of travel she asked herself this many times, the possibility of sending you home always tantalizingly close, but she never did. The thought of leading you two on this dumb crusade sat far better with her than the alternative.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Going back to that empty village.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No she was not </span>
  <em>
    <span>lonely.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Morga could survive the harshest winters and nastiest storms without so much as a hound for help, she needed no one. Still having someone else to see from time to time wouldn't be the worst thing, even if it was her idiot son and some city kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she agreed to lead you, the worst stretch of the trip still to come. She walked ahead of the group and tried to ignore her son's </span>
  <em>
    <span>constant bitching</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Motheeeeer I'm thirsty" he groaned for the hundredth time since sunrise. You were mercifully silent as you trudged beside the brat of a man. "And my boots are worn through."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you should've worn better ones, don't punish us for your lack of foresight" she grumbles but Lucio only gets more indignant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want water, </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>water. Not more snowmelt or creek water."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"<em>I want, I want, I want</em>" she mocked him nasally. "Rest your whine-hole and be silent for a while, maybe you'll be less thirsty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wha?" Lucio scoffs before sputtering "wha–well what about </span>
  <em>
    <span>MC? </span>
  </em>
  <span>My precious dove can't be expected to carry on like this" you just stay quiet, the walk honestly hasn't been bad and you don't feel like getting involved with their squabble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Magician has been scores more tolerable than your bellyaching, if they have an issue they can speak for themself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"MC help me out here"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not my table"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> won't travel like this" he throws his hands up in defeat. "It's just hard for no reason." And with that he peels away from the group, doubling back the way you came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is he really going back?" Morga asks, honest disbelief on her features. "Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's</span>
  </em>
  <span> not that stupid"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Surely not…" you respond at length, but it even sounds weak to your own ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well you fetch him then, I'll stay here. I'd like to get to the trees before the storm hits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Storm?" As the question leaves your lips you see the light drain from the steppe, overcast clouds blocking the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Big one, judging by the speed of those clouds we have a day, two at most" she says grimly. "We don't want to be camped in the open in a storm the likes of that." You look at the sky for a moment more before turning quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You won't wait too long" you nod resolutely as you take off after your idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>0</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You practically run up to him when you find him, turned away and looking at something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lucio! Love I know you're upset but we gotta move–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shhhh" Lucio cuts you off, grabbing you round the shoulders and clapping a gloved hand over your mouth. "See there?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's crouched at the top of a grassy hill overlooking what appears to be fields of stones. The stones aren't his focus as his golden hand points to the smallest little farm nearby. </span>
</p><p>
  <span> "That place has a well, no more gross snow-water" he grins, shooting you a sideways glance. He's waiting for you to say something, you know exactly what he's silently asking for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good work," You laugh, carefully extracting the gloved hand from your face. He vibrates a little at the menial praise and you can see his whole face light up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, I'll go storm in there and get some water for you doll face. I bet this sucker has other useful provisions too" he stands up, rolling his neck before heading down there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know…" he already stops, groaning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhhh you're gonna tell me to do something </span>
  <em>
    <span>moral </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>not murdery </span>
  </em>
  <span>aren't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just think they'd let us use their well if we ask."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But…" he whines, looking between the farm and you a few times before stomping. "But I was gonna go down there, sword in hand! make it look cool and heroic and you'd be really impressed." He grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can show off how tough you are when we run into danger, not civilians" you lightly scratch at the back of his neck, making him purr.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"O-ok" he blushes deeply "promise you'll call me if you run into anything though, no magic bad-assery without me ok?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Deal" you hold his chin lightly and he startles a bit at the phrasing. You just laugh as you make your way down the hill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stones are surrounded by tiny robins-egg blue flowers. Each marker is carved with intricate images depicting stories and lives. Lucio stares a bit as you weave between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Someone really likes sculpting…" he says absently, discomfort clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"These are obviously graves, Lucio"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh" is all he says, discomfort definitely not helped by the revelation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching the farm some extremely fluffy chickens greet you, strutting around the grounds seemingly unbothered by the frozen land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think there's anyone here" Lucio dismisses as he peers around the small property. A stray chicken gets caught underfoot and Lucio narrowly avoids crushing the poor thing. "Ah! Hey careful you could've tripped me!" He yells at the animal as if it could argue back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The chicken just continues clicking as it stares at him, head tilting this way and that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well you're lucky you're cute" he says with a huff. The chicken seems to hold no fear as it struts around him, examining him further. Lucio spins to follow the fowl, irritation leaving him at the animal's antics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You a bit stuck there?" You call from where you've lowered the bucket into the well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh you're just so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fluffy</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Lucio completely ignores you as he picks up the cotton ball of a bird. It flaps its wings in his outstretched hands but it goes nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey that's someone's chicken, put it down" you warn, cranking the lever to pull the bucket back out of the well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Actually Bokok is just my neighbor" a kind but worn voice makes you jump. Whirling around you see an ancient-looking woman bundled in layers of fur headed towards you from the graveyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh uh…" you freeze with your hand still on the crank from the well. Lucio and Bokok are frozen as well, staring very nervously at the woman who caught them red handed.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"If you're here to rob me you should know I have nothing a northerner would value" she sighs and you jump to defence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No no! We just needed some water and since no one was here we hoped you wouldn't mind. Lucio for the love of– </span>
  <em>
    <span>drop the chicken" </span>
  </em>
  <span>you hiss the last part in Lucio's direction, he releases the bird and it flutters to the ground on outstretched wings. Ruffling its fluff indignantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you're not here to rob me," the woman laughs a breathy, well worn laugh "The barrier would've stopped you if you were any real threat," she sighs "Besides, I could hear you wrangling that boy there all the way down the hill" she laughs again and Lucio turns a telling shade of crimson, lip sticking out in a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So...can we have some water?" You ask hopefully, the woman seemed good humored enough about it. She just waves her hand dismissively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Help yourself kids, you look like you're on quite the journey. You don't want to be out in the open still when the storm hits."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm! You almost forgot, how long had you been gone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you ma'am" you nod a bit nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love we need to get moving" you address Lucio, but he's still trying to discreetly pick up another chicken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh well...ok fine, but they're so </span>
  <em>
    <span>fluffy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I can't even pet one?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman narrows her eyes at Lucio, saying nothing for a long moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're from the scourge" she says, tone careful not to betray what that means or if she even cares. Lucio looks away, heel digging into the ground nervously. "I thought all your people were dead" her tone is a bit harsher now, Lucio sweats for a moment trying to think of something to say. The woman stares him down and for a fraction of a second a shadow passes over the quaint farm. Some kind of tension that has already been resolved, but not forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And just as fast it's gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Pet the chickens if you like, they're not mine" the woman calls, humor back in her voice as she begins lumbering back up the hill. "just don't hold me responsible for whatever they may do back!" She shouts before disappearing over the grass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a whispered "yes!" Under his breath he goes back to chasing the chickens around, leaving you to finish getting the bucket out of the well. You use the first one to fill your collective canteens before retrieving another one to drink. The water is crisp and tastes like minerals, but it's so much better than snow melt and way clearer than the creeks. It soothes your parched throat and reinvigorates your energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes gimme!" Lucio drops the two chickens he held hostage as you hand him the bucket. He drinks it greedily, leaning back against the stone well. Hydrated and satisfied he watches the chickens as they seem drawn to you. They remain underfoot and peck at your boots, your surprised laughter rings in the cold evening air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio gets a wicked idea, staring down at the rest of the water still in the bucket. Ever so quietly he sneaks up on you where you're crouched stroking one of the bird's poofy wings. He doesn't stop for an instant to think as he tips the bucket over your head, soaking you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're in shock for a moment as the torrent of water descends, staring at the ground with your arms raised slightly in surprise. The bird runs away and Lucio's self-satisfied giggling tells you exactly what just happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can't really think of anything to say to the utter stupidity of what he just did. Your shocked silence only makes him laugh harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you serious?" You ask quietly and he falls to the ground in laughter. "Lucio" you address him harshly as you stand up straight, prompting him to rise from his giggle-fit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh but </span>
  <em>
    <span>look at you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like a soaked kitten" he coos as you try to shake some of the water off, it's already soaking your clothes and making you shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lucio do you...have you ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>been outside?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>You ask harshly and his mirth dies down seeing how genuinely upset you seem to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lucio did you grow up in a sealed room? because last time I checked…" you grab him by his collar, shaking him a bit. "this is the </span>
  <b>fucking tundra</b>
  <span>" you growl, your skin feels like ice already and your shaking becomes violent. He blinks for a second before seeming to put two and two together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh whatever, we'll get you dried up." He rolls his eyes even as nervous sweat begins beading and on his brow. "I was just trying to have some fun." He grins nervously, you don't even have it in you to be mad as a breeze sweeps through the fields. Your very bones seem to rattle as the wet clothes freeze to your skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"G-g-ge" you try to speak but suddenly your tongue doesn't work. Lucio's eyes widen a fraction and he throws an arm over your shoulder, leading you back up the hill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>0</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're dry now, thankfully, but Lucio's not out of the woods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Montag you've done a lot of stupid things in your life but this proves you were born without common sense." Morga's words hold no venom anymore, they're just resigned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? I was just... messing around! I said I'm sorry"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry doesn't fix it"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fix </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lucio kicks a clump of grass angrily. "I used to pull that prank on friends all the time, MC just thinks they can't handle a little water" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never in the dead of storm season, never so far from shelter–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh specifics–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never</span>
  <em>
    <span> alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> on someone else's property!" Morga was yelling again and you just tune the argument out. You stare into the fire, dry cloaks wrapped around you to keep you warm. You didn't feel like arguing or thinking about how Lucio could've thought that was ok. He never </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinks </span>
  </em>
  <span>about anything, it seems. You don't want to dwell on it, you don't wanna do anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're warm on the outside but there's still a persistent cold under the skin, settled against the bones. Your arms are heavy where they hold the cloaks around you, your head's a bit foggy from everything that happened today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You feel sleep pulling at your mind as they continue arguing in the background, you tune back in for a moment. They're arguing over whether or not you're too weak to be here, should you be offended?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You fall asleep with little knowledge of how the argument ended. You know Morga gave up reasoning with him, you know he never actually apologized, you know he still won't admit he did anything wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Disappointing...the one thing you thought he'd gotten better at.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Morga glances behind her once again to see how far you've dragged behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your partner is slowing us down"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're just mad at me" Lucio grumbles in response. "Kinda petty but whatever"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're one to talk of </span>
  <em>
    <span>petty, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Montag" she shoots in return. "Ever tried being the bigger person?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey! I'm always the bigger person, I'm the biggest person anyones ever seen. And don't </span>
  <em>
    <span>call </span>
  </em>
  <span>me that"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Call you what?" Morga barks as she steps easily over the uneven land. "Your name?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My name is Lucio, it has been for years" he spits, stumbling on an unseen hole in the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey can we slow down?" You call from a few yards behind, but the southerners are too far in the zone and the conversation to consider you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I will not call you that ridiculous name, what's wrong with the one you had?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'Montag's not a Counts name!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not a Count–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And 'Lucio' isn't ridiculous, it's... it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>refined </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>elegant,"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then why do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> have it?" Morga smiles sharply as Lucio stumbles again. He's fuming as he kicks the ground that offended him, falling off balance and landing on his ass in the snow. "Really refined alright" she folds her arms as Lucio struggles to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing an opportunity she sweeps the blunt end of her spear out in an arc, knocking his feet out from under him and sending him tumbling back to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah! Mama!" He scoffs in disbelief, Morga just looks for the life of her like she hadn't moved a muscle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your footing's abysmal for you to keep falling like that." She quips innocently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you" your smaller-than-usual voice startles the two as you finally catch up behind them, almost as if they'd forgotten you were there. Morga looks at you for a moment while Lucio regains his feet for the third time. Without another word they keep moving, already leaving you behind a bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought that one would be stronger with how big they talked," Morga remarks. "A child could keep this pace" Lucio opens his mouth to defend you but he doesn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a long time since he talked to his mother regularly, even longer since it had been so </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Like catching up with an old friend, though him and Morga had hardly ever been friends. Something was different, and he didn't want to break it by arguing with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, it was a little embarrassing how slow you were moving. He'd thought you were still mad about the incident the other day, but your voice seemed genuine when you asked them to slow down. Stealing a glance back Lucio tried to catch your eye, you didn't look up from your feet as you trudged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Were you shivering?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"... Montag's a strong name and frankly you never lived up to it" Lucio tunes back in to catch the end of a sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never lived up to it? I'm the strongest person to come out of that clan!" He argued, suddenly very eager to defend himself. Morga laughs outright for a long while before Lucio finally interrupts. "What?" He spits indignantly, but Morga just keeps laughing. Some would say she laughed for hours at the audacity of what Lucio just said. Some would say she's still laughing in hysterical disbelief to this day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Haw ha...you know what?" She finally let's up, "you're right, that silly pansy name fits you better" she relents with a shake of her head. Lucio scowls, opening his mouth to bite back when Morga stops him. "There, see the tree line?" She points into the distance in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The falling snow makes it hard to see anything, but just on the horizon Lucio could make out a blur of darker sky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's still that far?" He groans in disbelief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yup, we might make it in a few hours if we pick up the pace. You gotta get your magician to move it." She claps him on the back before turning slightly, revealing how you seemed to have stopped completely in protest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio casts an embarrassed glance at the ground before making his way back to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"MC what the hell?" Lucio hissed. "You're making me look bad" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You just stared at the ground, watching the thick white snowflakes fall lazily and land. The ground was white and it covered your boots if you stood still too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>MC?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Lucio hissed again, shaking your shoulder. The entire world shook with you for a moment before settling upside down, was it the sky that was white or the ground? Was it both?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio was a bit concerned now, waving a gloved hand in front of your unresponsive face. You just kept staring at the ground before asking quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that up or down?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio has nothing for that question, upon further inspection you weren't just staring at the ground but you were still. No tremors at all when he could've swore he saw you shaking earlier. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>was shivering a little bit in the biting cold, yet you were still as a stone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mother!" Lucio calls from where he stands, tilting your chin up to look at your eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were glassy and they wouldn't focus on him. Thank goodness for Morga's sense of seriousness as she seemed to appear from thin air beside her son. Brushing Lucio aside she doesn't even ask why he called her, she just takes off one of her gloves and feels the skin of your face. She's silent for a long time as she appraises your condition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"MC do you know where we are?" She asks evenly, and you have to take a moment to understand what she said. You look around and try to remember, there's white everywhere like the snow you were watching. Like the sky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are we... flying?" You try cautiously, not wanting to look stupid in front of the queen. She just sighs, almost imperceptibly before backing away. You collapse to the ground without her support</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What does that mean? What's wrong?" Lucio looks nervously from you to his mother, trying to make sense of the ridiculous answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Montag do you know what fever madness is?" Morga asks gruffly, it sounds familiar but it was probably something boring someone tried to explain to him, so it didn't stick. "delirium?" Morga shakes her head and huffs. Now this word makes his blood run cold and his skin crawl, this word he's heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's heard it only once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was what the doctors called the mind altering disease that affected him during the plague. It started small, forgetting things easily and general disorientation, but it grew so quickly. By the time Lucio was trying to make a deal for a new body his head was only clear for minutes a day. The rest of the time he was consumed by a terrifying fear as everything shifted. He couldn't grasp anything in his room or his head. The things he knew were there but they slipped away when he tried to grab them, like water through his fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he'd gotten it from the plague.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They're sick?" He asks, surprised how his voice breaks at the thought. Suddenly their odd question made sense, as did their slow progress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very," Morga responds grimly, "and worse…" She looks to the treeline she'd pointed out earlier and back to you on the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They can go no further"</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"What do you mean? MC come on get up" Lucio crouches down to help you up, but your legs just won't hold you. Morga stops him with a growl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop it you'll only wear them out,"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"T-then I'll carry them" he argued from the ground beside you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That'll wear </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>out, and it'll slow you down" she steps back and levels him with a stare. The wind picks up slightly as they sit in silence; the snow no longer floating lazily, but being whipped and thrown by the gale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what…?" Lucio asks after a while, arms still around you in vain hope he can help you stand. "We just leave them?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can't help them so it's best we move on and find something that can" she speaks with even resolve, eyes closed. Lucio looks between you and her again, trying to think of anything else he can do. "We don't have time for this, move on now if you want them to survive." Her stern tone makes her son jump, Lucio checks your face one more time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We gotta go but we'll bring back help, you stay right here." He whispers, close enough to avoid the wind drowning it out. Your face holds no understanding, but he's out of time. Getting to his feet he starts towards the trees again, Morga following quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Unlike you to take the lead" she remarks, voice strained. He doesn't answer, and keeps looking back every few steps as if you'll disappear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're so out in the open, he can't help looking back at where you're sitting helpless in the snow. He's known you for a long time now and the one thing you'd never been was helpless. It's unsettling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes down memories of the delirium you must feel, you thought the ground was the sky? It doesn't take much to understand you're frightened. It's a fear that can't be explained, it leaves you alone even amongst friends or family. Unable to explain what's happening or understand all the things that should be mundane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You never needed a hero more than now and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to live up to all his bragging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walk for a long time, the sun is hidden behind the clouds yet one could pinpoint the moment it begins slipping behind the horizon. The sky grows darker and darker but the snow and the winds are ceaseless. Hours pass and the sky has grown a dark navy by the time they hit the treeline.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio hadn't spoken in all that time, definitely a record, so his voice is oddly weak when he finally asks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who are we even looking for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morga says nothing, simply keeps walking as the ground changes from snow covered grass to snow covered leaves and sticks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No one lives this near the edge of the forest…" he tries again. "And people out here aren't exactly friendly, who's gonna help us?" He's a bit more forceful now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morga walked ahead of him through the trees, she was giving him no answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mama!" He shouts at the back of her head. She stops and sighs, shoulders lowering a fraction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I lied to you, Monty" she says simply before she continues walking. Lucio is stopped for a moment, having to jog to catch up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? So what are we doing? Mama what's going on?" He pleads, he sounds so </span>
  <em>
    <span>young</span>
  </em>
  <span> to her all the sudden. He sounds like he used to before he became a real monster. She stops again and turns toward him just slightly. The trees block much of the falling snow, and they have plenty of time to talk. She waits a little longer, she'd always had a habit of delaying things when it came to her son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We're finding shelter from the storm" she says quietly, but not softly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What about MC?" He finally asks his real question. Morga turns all the way around to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> them?" She growls, a bit too insensitive to be believable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can't just leave them in the middle of nowhere they'll </span>
  <em>
    <span>die" </span>
  </em>
  <span>he steps forward, from anyone else it would seem threatening but Lucio knows better than to threaten Morga.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What they had is something I've only seen in children who fall through the ice, swift and untreatable" she shakes her head "They were dead when we left them" Morga only sounds dismissive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No they weren't, they were breathing and talking and...and we can't leave them" fear rises in Lucios throat as the gravity of this sets in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If we had taken them with us they would have slowed us down. They wouldn't have made it this long and we could've been at risk, is that what you want?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'</span>
  <em>
    <span>Is that what you want?</span>
  </em>
  <span>' of course it isn't." Lucio mocks. "You always did that! Saying something bad and asking if that's what I want, you know it's not stop being–" he stops suddenly, punching the air in aggravation. "This isn't about me and you know it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a first"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! No making fun of me you </span>
  <em>
    <span>left </span>
  </em>
  <span>them alone! You can't pretend that doesn't matter"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's how things must be sometimes" she sighs, obviously tired of the conversation she didn't want to have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No it doesn't, MC wouldn't abandon </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they're nice to everyone and they never leave anyone behind." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Montag</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"THAT'S NOT MY NAME!" The fear he'd once felt had been completely overcome by anger. Spinning around he began stomping back the other direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where do you think you're going?" she asks tiredly, the air of a woman who knows a bluff when she sees one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm getting them back" he doesn't stop to say it, just keeps marching. Reluctantly Morga follows, his tantrum has to end eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're going to find a corpse" that stops him, but only for a moment. He shivers and keeps walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't know that"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes I do, you'll die out there too" she calls as he gets farther away. He stops again, kicking the snowy ground in frustration. Morga just waits, he'll turn back around knowing how pointless it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He does turn around, but he doesn't walk. His face is red as he tries to deny it, tries to think of something to spit at her. He finds only one thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then I'll </span>
  <em>
    <span>die </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>too</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>" </span>
  </em>
  <span>he growls, beyond furious and beyond seriousness. Only now does Morga doubt he'll stop, as he spins back around and keeps walking after such a declaration. Her own frustration gets the better of her as she watches him go, he's really doing this?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You'd better die out there if you're this stupid, Montag" she says coldly. He doesn't stop, doesn't even let her know he heard her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The walk was long, and the night was cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him as he walked. The wind was wild like it meant to rip him apart, finally able to sink its teeth into him again since he hid from it in Vesuvia. snowflakes hit his face without his knowledge as he couldn't feel the exposed skin anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His boots sank to the knees into the snow with every step. The fresh white powder falling into the cracks and soaking his socks. His toes had completely given up on being awake or alive in his shoes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been 6 minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did Mother actually tell him he should die out here? She's said a lot of hurtful things over the years but wishing him death is something she usually reserved for special occasions. Though she'd never once wished him a death in a storm such as this. A death she would consider so dishonorable. Everything's about honor with her, Lucio knew better. He knew it was better to survive in shame than die in glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't going to die, he was going to show his Mother. Show her he could do this. He could… could…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops completely as he remembers just where he's going. He's actually knocked backwards a step by the force of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd been so angry, so caught up he actually forgot, or maybe he just didn't want to think about it. He forgot MC was out in this storm. The storm that froze him to his bones in minutes, the storm with the wind that growled at him like an angry beast. The wind that still threatened to throw him to the ground should he lose his balance for an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way you looked when he left you in the snow. Fearful and helpless...it wasn't you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A desperate anxiety throws him forward, legs struggling to keep up. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs </span>
  </em>
  <span>to find you. He needs you to be with him again; not alone, not scared, not lost in a storm to die. He can hardly hear his own thoughts over the pounding of his pulse and the horrid winds in his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made you promise you would call him if things got tough. He told you to rely on him. This isn't a beast he can slay for you but it's just as dangerous, if not more. He closed his eyes as another wave of horrible, sick worry hit him. He had to do this, he had to find you before the wind and it's beasts could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>0</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walk was long, and fffFUCK it was cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't remember how long he'd been walking, couldn't remember which direction he'd come from or where he'd left you. The storm had a tangible weight, so heavy his legs buckled under the strain. He walked robotically now not knowing where he was going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The anxiety never really left, just waxed and waned. At its best it became light enough to rationalize; you were strong enough to survive this, you had pulled off miracles before, he couldn't possibly fail. At its worst it grew to just shy of unbearable, and he trudged in hopeless despair knowing your corpse is long buried by the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's no getting around it, there's no way you've survived so long in such weather. Not when you were already so sick, so uncharacteristically weak. The one time you truly needed him and he ditched you like he ditches all his problems.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No no you were never once a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't mean that, he silently begs at the sky or the gods or the devil or whoever might be listening. He didn't mean it like that, you're not a problem you're the farthest thing. You're the only one who ever tried to </span>
  <em>
    <span>help </span>
  </em>
  <span>him with his problems. He begs the words to be unthought, the last thing he wants is to tempt whatever sick fates run his shitty life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He keeps walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The anxiety wanes a bit and he thinks more of the journey you were on together. The coldest winds can't freeze the fond memories he held. Your ever-present support as he kept failing over and over. The days you spent combing the town just looking for trouble to get into. The nights he'd sneak you into the palace just to feel your body against his as he slept.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd never met anyone so smart and talented and </span>
  <em>
    <span>kind. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You were so uncompromisingly kind to everything you encountered, you told him you try to love as much as you possibly can. He told you that you'd get hurt that way, you just loved him harder out of spite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods you're too good for him, and that's a high bar to clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You wouldn't have been dumb enough to follow Morga away, you wouldn't have been so hated you had to leave Vesuvia. You were definitely strong enough to survive some storm. Why had you even gotten sick?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother's voice buzzes in his ear like an angry wasp. He shakes his head to knock it loose but it persists, and the anxiety waxes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"What they had is something I've only seen in children who fall through the ice"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But you hadn't fallen through any ice, you were just ok one day and then…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>The stupid stunt with the water <em>no</em> <em>no </em></span><b><em>no</em></b> <span>it couldn't be. Like the ground giving out beneath him Lucios stomach drops to his shoes. He shutters and the world suddenly makes no sense, holds no meaning.</span></p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He did this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His stupidity, always his stupid lack of forethought. He's caused so many problems, deaths and plagues and wars had been consequence of his utter void of a brain. Now he'd hurt someone he loved, but it was worse than that. You won't survive this. He's </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> the only person to truly love </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wouldn't even apologize to you, and now he never could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to cry and maybe puke a little. He wanted to curl up in the snow and hide from it. Unbearable, completely unfathomable that this had happened. He wanted to run back to his Mama or back to Vesuvia or somewhere to get away from this sickness in his chest. The horrible sadness and guilt eating him alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But there was nowhere he could go. He could run but he couldn't imagine a reality where you weren't there with him. Couldn't fathom a life he could live without you in it, oh how much had changed since he met you. You hadn't changed him, it just... happened. The anxiety waned again and it was almost worse wondering when it would come back. Would he be able to handle the next wave? How many could he take before he gave up entirely?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His thoughts were numb now as he tried to picture what he'd find when he did find you, if he didn't die first. The snow was deep enough to completely cover you if you'd already…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would he trip over your corpse in the snow? Would you be frozen where he left you? Or would he find you tried to get up? Tried to save yourself? It would be very like you to keep walking, not knowing where you are or what's wrong with you. It was no longer a question of if he'd find you alive, but how he'd find you dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's an odd familiarity to it, to the searching through the snow. The endless cold and wind. He could picture, when he closed his eyes to try, the cold sandy expanse of the devil's prison. The one he was trapped in for so so long he forgot the passage of time. The one that threw nightmarish visions of you at him simply to torment him with what little he still cared about in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered that place, and he remembered how you saved him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like the sun parting the clouds of the darkest thunderstorm you pulled him from the snow and told him he was ok. Told him he was found and that you would always find him. He'd give anything to have you find him now, to feel your calming touch. To hold you in his arms again. Just the memory of your words is enough to make his heart ache harder, anxiety lost for the moment in an overwhelming yearning to be close to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He misses you so damn much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'll find you. You're long dead by now and he's half in the grave as well by this point, but he'll find your body. Just so in some way he can return the favor. Return one of the lifetime of favors you've already given him asking nothing in return. He'll find you so he can tell you he'll </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>find you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter where you go next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind drowns out the crunching of his boots in the snow. The long, cold night completely overpowering him. He's nothing in such a storm, he can't tell himself from the icy wind and sleet around him. No difference in temperature or importance as he slowly freezes, no feeling in anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How long have his eyes been closed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening them slowly he sees only what he thought he would, the same thing he'd been seeing for hours. Endless white expanse.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes were tricking him, a light bouncing across the snow in the distance before fizzling. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, like sparkrocks across his vision. What was that? He feels his eyes falling closed again as he walks, pondering the hallucination. Nothing could penetrate such a storm, it was either an illusion or magic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes fly open, there's no way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Desperate strength returns to his numb extremities, he stumbles toward the illusion. Hoping for the best, expecting nothing but the worst.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The closer he gets the clearer the sparks become.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>They light the horizon, maybe a hallucination? Maybe a flare from a lost traveler? Maybe a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Spark</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing prepares him for the source he finds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're hunched in the snow trying desperately to keep a small flame alive in your palm. Lucio stops entirely as he sees you, breathing...no crying. He doesn't blame you. You're shaking so violently you can hardly conjure the sparks anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The snow up to his thys means nothing as he half-runs half-falls towards you. A dizzying relief that's almost scary in its power spurs him on. He reaches you and falls practically in your lap, extinguishing your fire as he pulls you as close as he can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"N-nn–oo!" Your yell is nearly incoherent through your shaking but he hardly hears it. He doesn't hear the wind or your chattering teeth, all he hears is your breathing when he buries his face in your frozen skin. All he feels is your weak but stubborn heartbeat against him. Overcome with joy he kisses you, toppling you both over into the snow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"MC!" His voice breaks like glass when he calls your name, pulling away from the kiss and cupping your face in his hands as he stares down at you. You're trembling still but for different reasons, evident as he reads the confusion and fear written all over your features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A-ah…" you start but seem too scared to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh MC I'm sorry…" He gets up quickly, only slightly embarrassed. "You know me, remember?" He asks, not sure how he'll handle it if you've forgotten him. You squint at him through the blizzard, seemingly even more scared. You try your sentence again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A-re y-you the de-e-vil-?" you practically mumble the broken syllables. Lucios eyes widen slightly in surprise before he shakes his head, heart sinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No...but...I don't blame you" he explains lamely. A shiver runs down him at the ice of your skin, surely he doesn't feel much warmer. "We need to get out of this storm" he says it, mostly to himself. You don't respond, not that you'd have much to contribute in such a state. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has trouble tearing his eyes from your face for a moment. Your stare is so vacant, so confused and void of anything you once had. Like looking into the glassy eyes of a corpse, Lucios seen such eyes on the many victims of his sword. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't have long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon" his mouth has trouble forming words through the frozen numbness that's overcome him, but speaking is more for his benefit than yours. You can't understand anything, and he doesn't want to feel alone. Kneeling down he guides your arms to wrap around his shoulders. He hooks his hands under your knees and pushes himself off the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Falling </span>
  <em>
    <span>falling– </span>
  </em>
  <span>no false alarm. He almost topples over at the new weight, his knees ache from the extra strain but he doesn't have time to complain about it. The alternative is dropping you, and that's not happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a strange mixture of feelings that cloud his mind as he walks again. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>found </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, and even more than that you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He has hope, and beyond that nothing else seems to matter. And though it doesn't matter, other feelings still coil inside him and demand his attention. He has no distraction, only the endless expanse of white.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sadness and guilt are still present, fed by the sorry state of you. The way you whimper in fright next to his ear, yet you cling to him like a lifeline. You don't know who he is or where he's taking you and you're frightened, but you know staying put means death, and you couldn't fight him if you tried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond his guilt at almost killing you there's a sick sense of pride. Your death grip on him fueling his desire to be the protector of the relationship. Oh how he loved to be needed. A different kind of guilt gripped him for it, but there was no denying how his heart raced when you pressed yourself so close to him, not comprehending anything but trusting him to save you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that's sick and twisted, he's done more twisted things in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beyond all of these feelings was an undeniable sense of relief, like cotton in his head. Muffling everything else. You were alive, you were alive, you were alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cold was getting to him now, his thoughts spinning in uncontrollable circles. The night seemed to last forever, surely day had to break eventually. Surely this couldn't last forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He forgets how long he's been walking again, forgets whether it's even the same night when he finally hits trees again. The sun isn't even visible yet as it gently lights the horizon and the crunch of a different ground texture is like music. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But entering the woods doesn't mean they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>out</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the woods. The trees offer precious little shelter but the cold and the wind still permeate the skin and numb the mind. He needs something more substantial, and he has to admit eventually that he needs to rest. He'll be no use to you as a deadman walking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woods present new challenges to walking, forcing him to step over fallen branches buried in the snow. Progress goes from slow to a crawl in such terrain. His eyelids are heavy and his back is aching and his legs are about to quit on him, anything will do at this point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a final torturous step he trips headlong into the snow, into a </span>
  <em>
    <span>hole.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"UwAHHH!" He faceplants unceremoniously into the fresh fallen powder, it gives under your combined weight. There's a long moment where he just doesn't get up. He lays face down in a pit in the ground as the snow gets even more under his clothes. You shake him lightly, with a groan he rolls over and looks around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's still too dark to see but through feel he can tell the hole is several feet deep. His metal fingers brush against branches and soil… he knows what this is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Caused by a large tree, fallen who knows how long ago. The upturned roots leave a sizable hole in the forest floor, surrounded by snow. Roots and dirt and snow stretch over his head, almost completely covering the pocket and blocking out the canopy above. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Small and dirty, not at all long-term shelter, but he isn't sure he can take another step. And he isn't sure how much more of the blizzard you can handle. With a relieved sigh he starts patting down the snow that fills the hole, this would have to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You whisper confused questions as he works,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where are we going?" "Do you know Lucio?" "Where's the lights?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He answers at first but it's useless, you retain nothing. Eventually he gives up talking to you at all. You're not yourself and he couldn't afford to get too disturbed by the difference.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hole ends up pretty sizable after all the snow is patted down, he adds some from outside to seal certain cracks from the unforgiving winds. The snow insulates like a dream but it also isn't kind to air, he has to be careful you two aren't covered completely or you'll suffocate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That means no sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One joy after another it seems, he rubs his eyes damn near defeated. He just sits for a long while with his palms pressed to his closed eyes. Just for a moment pretending this isn't happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pretending everything's ok.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You're not just cold, you're soaked through your clothes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio had his little breakdown but now he's back trying to figure this out. He has to focus on what needs to be done next.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't get caught up thinking about how little chance you actually had of surviving. How scared you seemed of everything, including him. How terribly </span>
  <em>
    <span>his fault</span>
  </em>
  <span> the whole ordeal was trying to be. He couldn't think of any of it if he wanted to actually help. Accept he's thought of nothing else so far, come on man focus!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh great now all he can focus on is the word focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his hand on you to make sure you were still there, there was no other confirmation in the pitch black pocket. Maybe light would help?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fire would be the obvious answer for both the light and the wet clothes problems. You had magic fire sparks apparently, there were plenty of old roots for fuel, and the snow would even insulate the heat. There was only one problem…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fire...no no no he couldn't do fire anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not after what happened, not in a place so enclosed with no escape. He couldn't handle the thought, just the vision of the bright flames licking behind his eyelids was enough to make him shiver. Wincing at the memory of pain long gone, long made obsolete but still lingering in his fears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd have to find something else, body heat was always an option. His mind jumped excitedly to where such thoughts usually lead, pressed together for warmth–</span>
  <em>
    <span>no, focus.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Something that could save your life that isn't fire</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dammit, it's just the word 'focus' again!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly a light sparks next to him, he'd been so lost in thought he'd almost forgotten you were still exploring. Trying to make sense of your surroundings and situation. A bright ball of light flicks to life in your hand, you seem almost frightened of it for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With light illuminating the immediate area Lucio takes a moment to stare at you. Your skin has taken on a much paler pallor and your lips are tinged blue. Violent shivering seemed to be exhausting you with how long you'd endured it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The light solves one of his problems, but it illuminated another. You're cold, that much seemed obvious, but you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>so cold</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He knows a lot about cold and you were at a level of cold far beyond him. You were probably going to lose fingers, oh gods you were going to lose </span>
  <em>
    <span>fingers. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But he can't just...get over fire. He can't just ignore the way his skin prickles at the thought of it. The heat, the light, the...the </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span>–uhhh oh he might pass out. Hold on…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He braces against the ground with his hands, willing the waves of weakness away. He stays there for a long time before he's startled by a burning hand on his head. Looking up sharply he sees you scramble away, light extinguishing momentarily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eah!" Your sharp cry at the sudden darkness cuts the sound of the howling wind before you summon the ball of light again. Your gloves lay useless in the dirt, when had you taken them off? Why was your skin so hot on his hair?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's gotta be a fever, taking your free hand he confirms it. You're shivering and pale but beneath the skin you're boiling alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't think about much as he feels around the burrows walls, peeling dry roots and tinder from the surroundings. It's been a lifetime sense he made any fire starting structure, he wasn't sure he remembered how. Still he makes the best teepee he can muster, if he's going to do this he might as well properly terrify himself. Now for the most volatile part, he taps your face to get your attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love I need your help, some f-fire or a spark... anything you can muster." You stare at him and nod as he speaks, seeming to understand. He's hopeful as you open your mouth, hesitating a moment before speaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You look soft" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What does that mean!??</span>
</p><p>
  <span>your voice is so quiet, so strained like your vocal cords are frozen as well. Shaking his head he grabs your shoulders, needing you to understand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Magic, MC, you're a Magician!" This seems to grab your attention a bit more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm...I'm a magician, not as good as Master…" you trail off. Master? You couldn't possibly mean Asra, you hadn't called him that in years. Where were you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah a Magician, and you can… can make fire" he really didn't wanna have to keep saying it, but he made up his mind. He needed MC more than he feared a little... violent burning flashback.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know that one…" you relent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes! MC I need you to make a little fire for me ok? It doesn't have to be a lot" ushering you forward your face takes on a fierce concentration. "You know how to do this, I've seen you do it a lot. I've asked you very politely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to make fire but I'm taking that back now. You just gotta remember–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You really talk a lot, devil" you mumble, still concentrating on the roots he laid out. He could practically hear your voice in his head, scolding him every time he tried to talk you through spellcasting.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shut up you're not helping.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth snaps shut and he just watches, chewing nervously on his metal thumb.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh he wasn't ready for this, he wasn't ready to handle fire. Not when he was already so stressed and so scared. Scared of whether you'll remember and whether you'll even live. Will </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>survive the night without heat? He isn't ready, he isn't ready–HOLY SHIT!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The spark is just as sudden as he fears, and it comes out </span>
  <em>
    <span>green. </span>
  </em>
  <span>For a moment it's better, green fire doesn't evoke the terrible visceral memories. But the moment the fire spreads to the tinder it turns orange, cracking the dry bits of root in a sound that sends waves of sickness crashing on Lucio again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh fuck OH FUCK NO</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio doesn't even remember moving, he just finds himself pressed flat against the edge of the burrow. As far away from the fire as possible. You scooch closer to it, warming your hands on the pitiful flames desperately clinging to the dry branches. That's </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse </span>
  </em>
  <span>almost, seeing you so close to the flames. Watching the lights flicker on your skin, so sickeningly close. All it would take is one slip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can't move, he actually can't make his body obey him as he sits in paralyzed terror. Please get away, he begs you silently. Please he can't watch the shadows and lights move over you. His skin crawls so furiously at the sight</span>
  <em>
    <span>, please move</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes his eyes tightly, he has to get a hold of himself. You aren't in danger, well not from the fire anyway, you need to be close to warm up. The flames are quickly dying, running out of the starter fuel he prepared. Fire needs near constant tending if it's going to survive, once upon a time he was quite good at keeping the flames lit. The bonfires he built for clan celebrations were some of his fondest memories, but that kid was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he needed to find that skill again, reawaken that practice in a life or death situation. No pressure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carefully he inches away from the wall, closer by just a hair, never taking his eyes off the blaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>NooOO he couldn't do it. He scrambled back again and wished he could get farther. He couldn't just overcome this, he couldn't picture it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just like before...he couldn't picture a life without you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops hyperventilating for a second as he thinks, this is a crossroads. He is left with two options here, do this or don't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he does...no it's too scary he can't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he doesn't...you won't make it, you're hardly conscious as it is. He watches from the few feet away as you slump over, still wet and still shivering. Still not knowing where you are or how to save yourself. He didn't think saving someone would be so damn hard, and you certainly weren't helping. He wished you could help like you usually do, he misses you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do or don't, he can't do it but he can't let you die. So the real question is which is worse? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn't even a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok he has to then...he has to do something. He starts small, just don't think about it. He's an expert at not thinking about things, he can do this. Centimeters at a time he makes his way closer, battling the skin crawling feeling everytime the fire shifts. There were more embers than fire now. Finally after seemingly hours of forcing his muscles to un-tense, he can move freely again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His claws make clumsy work cutting the thicker roots from the dead tree. He tries to pick the ones that won't damage the integrity of the small shelter he found. Now for the hard part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every inch towards the fire takes a pep talk to achieve, every inch he needs to remind himself of the alternative, remind himself what giving up would lose him. The heat is so small but it suffocates him, horrible heat waves of fear forcing him to hesitate every few minutes. He prods the embers and blows lightly on the volatile heat, coaxing them back into flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he gets the fire stable enough to rest he finds the fear is gone. Not in a good way, in a way that tells him his fear brain is completely shot. His nerves are frayed beyond repair and exhaustion sets so deep he feels it in his organs. It's a kind of feeling he knows he'll still be revisiting in nightmares years from now, another to add to the pile.</span>
</p><p><span>The burrow was already warming as the storm only picked up outside, he rests his weary body beside you in an exhausted heap. He'd done the thing that needed to be done next, now he needs to find the things that needs to be done</span> <span>next </span><em><span>next</span></em><span>.</span></p><p>
  <span>He still shivered from time to time from the wet clothes clinging to him, thoughtlessly he started stripping down to dry out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm was strong but there was a weak light coming from out in the blizzard, the sun was rising.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your perception was almost spinning, a circular confusion that made you forget things as you were trying to figure them out. The devil...no that wasn't the devil, you'd already decided that, had to be exhausted by this point. </p><p>You'd been so scared of him at first, he kept taking you places against your will and telling you you couldn't trust your own thoughts. He was right in the end but you weren't ok, something was wrong when you tried to remember where you were going or why you're so cold. Everything's so cold to the touch, even the devil, no no a stranger not the devil. Strangers made you nervous like the devil and you'd been so scared of this one at first. Had you already thought that? </p><p>He wasn't the devil cause you knew what the devil felt like and it wasn't that, what was it again? What were you just trying to figure out? You open your mouth to ask the devil but he looks too worn out to answer anything. You get a distinct feeling of wrongness from the unnamed creature who actually isn't the devil if you remember correctly. Like he's acting out of place even though you've never met him and don't know what his place is. Or any place for that matter, where is this place? Why is it so cold?</p><p>You close your eyes in confusion, you were so sick and scared of this stupid fog-brain insanity. You couldn't shake it no matter how hard you tried and it just left you trapped in your own mind. Would you be like this forever? Would you never think a coherent thought again? Have you ever been capable of coherent thought? Maybe the life you had was assisted in some way and without help you actually think like a mental patient.</p><p>You miss your Lucio, he'd say something dumb yet encouraging.</p><p>Lucio...the first thing you remembered so far that actually made you smile. How could you forget such a stupid lovable carriage-wreck of a man? He was many things but in no way was he forgettable. He'd help you regardless of whether or not you're crazy, he'd probably move the city for you if you promised him a kiss. </p><p>Granted he'd complain the whole time, but still.</p><p>Opening your eyes again you watch him laying out wet clothes to dry. Watch him scrape his hand on the ground and punch it in revenge, hurting it further. </p><p>"Aaa?? Hey??? Rude????" </p><p>"Hahheheh" you can't stop your giggling, in another circumstance you'd be embarrassed by how bubbly it came out. You were just thinking about him and now he's here. How'd he do that?</p><p>Oh right, you're crazy.</p><p>But the more you look at him fumbling around, avoiding the fire as much as humanly possible, the more you think maybe you're not crazy. The more you dwell on it the more you realize it's not slipping away, he's not slipping away. </p><p>You recognize the shape and movement of the fire, the sound of the wind and the snow, the faint echo of Lucios muttering in the underground shelter. You're back.</p><p>Your skin feels like ice but your body is covered in sweat. A splitting headache pulses in your temples but you recognize it all. You're sick, you realize it and aren't surprised, you're very very sick to make you so delirious. To make you somehow freezing and burning at the same time. To make you feel like the pain and pressure in your head is going to tear you in half any second. </p><p>You reach for your cloak to warm you or at least for comfort, but it's gone. You're dressed in only your sweat-soaked underclothes. Those clothes Lucio was braving the fire to dry were yours as well as his, how had he gotten them off you without you noticing? Had you forgotten? Come to think of it you couldn't remember anything before you realized your stranger was actually Lucio. </p><p>Don't think about it too much, you'll only disturb yourself more.</p><p>You recognize the situation now, and you recognize more than that. You recognize that Lucio started a fire somehow, the man who won't let you light candles at dinner. You recognize that you've been completely out of it and your last memory is asking him and Morga to slow down while your world loses its solidity. </p><p>You remember walking behind their conversation and now you're here, made as safe as possible for the circumstances, and you can only assume it's Lucio who did it. Where was Morga? More importantly, was Lucio ok?</p><p>"L-Lu?" Wow your voice is way weaker than you thought, and the shivering isn't helping. He stops suddenly, spinning around and scrambling toward you.</p><p>"Yes? That's me, that's my name right? You were saying Lucio?" He seems a little too excited, how long had you been out of it? Smiling weakly, you nod your head, he freaks out a bit in front of you. Drumming on the floor and looking around to see if anyone else was seeing this. His hands hover around you a bit, afraid to actually touch you.</p><p>"Are you–? Can I hug you? Are you in there?" He pleads, you only get a half a nod in before he's wound his arms around you. Heedless of how cold you feel or how sweaty, he covers your face in kisses until you have to shove his face away.</p><p>"Stop!" you laugh, frozen mouth not quite forming the word right.</p><p>"No! I gotta get my kisses in before you go away and forget me again" he peppers kisses over your hand as you continue trying to push him away. "You don't even know MC! I gotta tell you about everything I've had to put up with. Mama was being such a dick, and you were my distressed lover I had to face certain death to save. It's really a story," He cuddles closer, pressing his face into your neck, you shiver from how cold his nose is.</p><p>Looking around the dank place you've both found yourselves in you try to imagine Lucio going through this alone. He tells you all about the fight he had with his mom and the way he found you trying to stay warm with a few sparks. He definitely embellishes a bit but the way his voice gets tired and strained when he tells certain parts tells you how scary it really was. He tries so hard to make it sound heroic and theatrical for you, but he still seems very afraid.</p><p>In the end you're petting his hair while he cuddles close to your chest.</p><p>"You're still really sick though" he finishes quietly, "Is it 'feed a fever and starve a cold'? Or 'eat a cold and drown a fever'? Maybe 'starve a fever and choke a cold'? No that doesn't make sense…" you nod like you understand but your grip is fading. You'd hoped you would be sane for good but the delirious fear was creeping back in. </p><p>"Well which do I have?"</p><p>"Both???" He looks up from where you're petting his hair, confusion and fear written on his face again. You can't quite remember why he's so afraid but you don't want him to know you're slipping, you don't want to leave him alone again just yet.</p><p>"Well I'm really thirsty" you try, hoping the input will help. He brightens a bit at the idea of having something he can do.</p><p>"Oh! Yeah I have the rest of the well water still" he digs through his stuff for his canteen, stumbling upon a surprise. "Hey there's a cookie in here!" He exclaims, back turned to you. You hear distinct munching before he turns around and gives the canteen to you, watching as you drain what's left. You realize a bit too late that you don't have yours anymore.</p><p>"What'll you drink?"</p><p>"Oh uh…" he looks around like he hadn't thought of that before waving it off. "There's...uh... plenty of snow around, right? I'll be fine" he reassures you with a nervous smile. "I probably should've offered you the cookie" he admits sheepishly. </p><p>"No you deserved it" you laugh, were cookies normal? Your head was fogging up fast. "Who packed just one solitary cookie?"</p><p>"Whoever it was, they're my Hero," he sighs, licking his fingers. You chuckle a bit before feeling very suddenly tired, like you're falling. Being dragged downward through an unseen drain as everything around you goes black.</p><p>"MC?" Lucio drops the empty canteen as you lay down on the floor. "MC hey stay with me!" He slaps your face lightly but you don't open your eyes. "Come on wake up! Don't leave me love don't leave me again" he shakes your shoulders desperately but you don't stir. </p><p>He leans over you as you sleep, defeated. He can't make you wake up, what does that mean? Why can't he wake you? Were you in serious trouble now?</p><p>He watches almost paralyzed as water drips from the ceiling onto your face. There's a leak? Looking up he scrutinizes the ceiling, he doesn't see where the drips are coming from. Looking back down he sees two more drops land on your cheeks and only then does he realize it's not coming from the ceiling.</p><p>He's crying.</p><p>He finally broke down apparently, because he had you back for a precious few minutes. Now you've gone back where he can't follow.</p><p>You probably just need sleep, he tells himself, you probably need to sleep to heal and get better. This is a good sign, he needs to believe it is. He needs you to get better so for that you need to sleep. He should probably make you more comfortable.</p><p>He takes the driest cloak from beside the fire and curls up behind you, wrapping you two up. He holds your burning body close, begging you to get better. You have to get better, this has to be a good sign. You're shivering so much, how can you be so hot and so cold at the same time?</p><p>He can't fall asleep, he needs to be there if something happens. What if you wake up and need him? Conversely what if you stop breathing and he can't save you? He shivers too at the thought, cuddling you closer and willing you to be fine. Your moment of lucidity gave him a bit of hope.</p><p>Now he's just afraid again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Staying awake wasn't the hard part. As Lucio watched the outside get steadily lighter it was his thoughts that were the real enemy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mainly the ones that persistently told him you were getting worse. You slept fitfully in his arms, your body jerking wildly from time to time. Your sleep-mumbling growing into whines and sometimes fully pained screams. Your skin grew hotter even as your breathing grew shallower. His thoughts promised you wouldn't survive much longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed like that's all his thoughts had been telling him for days. To the point he almost wished you'd pick a lane already, either get better or...let him stop having to worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Panic gripped his heart again at the thought, the idea that he'd be so tired to wish that in any capacity. He didn't deserve for you to live if he was going to give up that easily. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>deserved to live, and he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna try his best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sky was fully light now, sun making the whiteout somehow harder to see through. That first terrible night was over, probably a few more to go before you'd be well enough to go anywhere. The fire died down to a simmer over the hours you slept, and Lucio had exhausted the burnables inside the shelter. He'd have to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't hurt anymore, but the </span>
  <em>
    <span>stiffness </span>
  </em>
  <span>left him struggling to move at all. Still he dragged himself up off the ground, hating how unfair it all was. Hating how afraid he was. He's almost able to slip away, but you grip his arm just in time to stop him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't go…" you beg, half asleep. He almost gives in, you look so sad and he doesn't wanna have to move his stiff achy muscles. He can't give in though, he wasn't a quitter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can't stand to be away from me?" He grins weakly, knowing you won't respond. Won't appreciate him trying to seem normal. With a sigh he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Not long, I promise" he kisses your face too as many times as you'll let him before he reluctantly stands again. Leaving you behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm hasn't tired even a fraction, only gone from a black expanse of blinding wind and snow to a white expanse of blinding wind and snow. He couldn't even see the trees. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To venture too far in such conditions would be a fool's death, he'd have to stick close. He ran his metal hand up the trunk of the massive fallen tree comprising the shelter, walking slowly in the snow and the biting cold. The tree was extraordinarily tall, and following it ensured he'd find his way back. Eventually if he followed it long enough he'd have to find the branches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It probably took him only fifteen minutes of trudging to get to the end of the trunk, but the eternity of things he realized in those fifteen minutes left him winded. He realized as he walked that his metal arm wouldn't move it's fingers, they were stuck like rusty cogs refusing to grind. Could magic break? Could metal freeze?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second realization to shake his awareness was that he was limping. The pins and needles in his feet made his steps awkward and lurching. His legs didn't feel cold, but the stiffness and the numbness made them unbearably disobedient. He had been so worried about you he kept forgetting that he was out in the same storm. Granted he was more accustomed to the cold and he wasn't sick, but he was still freezing to death as steadily as you were. That's when the final and strangest realization shocked him, like...well like a bucket of ice water to be insensitively honest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't really care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the complete overload to his fear response with the fire, or just the general overworking and lack of sleep he'd endured, but the thought of dropping dead there in the snow was...fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt no spike in heart rate, no disturbing crawl down his spine or desperate desire to think of something else. Usually the thought of his death left him distraught and anxious but his mind was blank. It was different than being calm, calm felt like an ocean that had been storming suddenly sitting in complete stillness. This felt...like the ocean had been drained, leaving only dry cracked earth in its place. Unmovable and empty. He had nothing in him to calm down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He metal hand slips from the tree trunk, brushing several protruding branches. Lucio's eyes open against the fierce wind and finds he can see the branches ahead of him through the white out. The stretch seemingly forever into the void. Numbly he starts breaking off any he can, peeling them from the bark of the tree. They're wet but long dead, they'd have to do. Gathering what he can carry he starts the grueling walk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>back</span>
  </em>
  <span> down the tree trunk. Walking on the other side now so he can still run his golden hand along the rough bark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he walks he can't help but wonder what else he can think about. What can he finally face now that the fierce oceans in his head have evaporated?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your death comes to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surely if nothing can scare him at the moment then he can examine the probability of your death without his brain desperately trying to rationalize why it won't happen. He's right that the thought of you being gone doesn't make waves in his mind, but he's wrong that he won't be bothered. His feelings are left raw and barren from this ordeal like a vast barren desert where water once was, but the thought of your death shakes the very grounds. The land rolls and cracks, splintering into unrepairable pieces at the thought of you dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stops walking, leaning on the trunk for support. Almost dropping the branches he'd gathered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shutters slightly at the unfamiliar sensation. The thought of something that can disturb him deeper than death. Something so unbearable to him it can strike fear in his heart and shake his very core regardless of how shot his emotions are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He keeps walking, opting to think of nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're still asleep when he returns, shivering but still sweating. The fire burns hotter with the more substantial fuel, keeping the small shelter plenty warm, but you still need taken care of. You'd lost a lot of liquid, he had to make you drink something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hated snowmelt, gross dusty water that tastes like the woods, but it's all he had in his canteen. Taking a deep breath he shakes you a bit, hoping he can even wake you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully you rise easily, less thankfully you seem to be completely terrified. Your eyes blow wide at the unfamiliarity around you, you back away from him violently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey come back!" He yells indignantly, as if yelling will help. "You have to drink some water" You shake your head, but your movements are sluggish. Your eyes have sunken into your skull and your skin wrinkles like paper. Your dehydration had gotten bad </span>
  <em>
    <span>fast. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Panicking, Lucio grabs your arm pulling you back towards him. You don't even get all the way through your screaming before you collapse, fainting onto the floor again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was no more energy to be upset or afraid at your condition, in a way it made it easier. Something he didn't have before that this sick ordeal had taught him. Shaking you again you wake up, quickly falling back into your fear. He doesn't ask this time, forcing the canteen to your lips and making you drink. You make a strangled little sound before being forced to swallow the water to avoid choking. He should feel bad, he knows, having to force you to drink. But his feelings are gone, he doesn't know when they'll be back. All he has is a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's decided to do whatever he has to to make you live, if that means forcing you to drink water so be it. He isn't bothered by it, he isn't bothered by dying in the process. And if you do die?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well maybe there are worse things than death after all, he knows living without you bothers him more at this point. He nods once, sure of his decision as he recaps his canteen. If you die he'll go with you, living would undoubtedly be worse. He smiles a bitter smile at the crackling flames, not feeling their heat, not fearing their light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This stupid trip taught him something after all.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night fell again, as it does. You still slept like death.</p><p>Uhhh bad, bad use of words.</p><p>Lucio curled next to your side, still trying hard not to sleep. Everything just kept <em> going. </em>So breakneck-fast yet not nearly fast enough. He wanted it to be over goddamn it, he wanted everything to resolve instead of sitting in this torturous nether of uncertainty. </p><p>He was so tired.</p><p>His eyes kept drifting shut, but he pried them open time and time again. No sleeping, come on Monty you don't need sleep. He could easily stay up for days when he was hunting or partying, but for some reason now even his hair follicles seemed to be screaming for rest.</p><p>He remembered his parties, dancing and drinking and carrying on without a care. He remembered hunting for prize game, only his sword and his dogs. Oh how he wished he was there, it was comforting to think he could be there again. Comforting to imagine eventually these torturous few days would be a memory he could drink away. A bad dream he could forget, soothed by the soft linens of a warm bed and your soothing hands on his skin as you sleep beside him.</p><p>You aren't there now, the realization startles him. He jumps so fast he almost hits his head on his headboard.</p><p>Melchior shuffles indignantly at being disturbed and Mercedes licks his fingers affectionately. He lays back down with a shaky sigh, he's in his bed in the palace. He'd been in that bed for what felt like months, the plague weakening him into submission. At least his dogs shared his company when his 'friends' were too busy.</p><p>Weren't the dogs...there? They're curled close to his sides where they always are when they sleep but they seem lesser, like something else should be there. He could wish all he wanted for someone beautiful to warm his bed but no matter how he wracked his memory he couldn't recall anyone else sharing these particular sheets.</p><p>Enough of this, he won't stay in bed and rot, forgotten like a mummy. He throws the blankets off and marches out, Mercedes and Melchior jumping to their paws to follow. The door is so much heavier than he remembers, damn plague atrophying his glorious physique. Melchior stands on his back paws, bracing his front paws against the door in a gesture mimicking Lucio's own as he pushes fruitlessly. </p><p>"Good boy help daddy" Lucio can't help but coo as Melchior wags his tail happily. Mercedes spins in agitated circles, upset she isn't getting praised too. With a stubborn grunt Lucio manages to budge the door enough for it to swing open. He stumbles forward from the momentum, almost landing in the snow beyond. </p><p>Where had his mother gone? He looks out on the village going about their business and pouts. Surely she didn't go hunting <em> again. </em> She was supposed to be <em> sick, </em>instead she only seemed to be working harder for the clan. How was he supposed to give that stupid Wyrm her heart if she wasnt weakened by the illness?</p><p>Taking a step through the doorway he cringes at the crunch of snow underfoot. Melchior and Mercedes race ahead, past his mother leading them through the snow. She agreed to guide them but she was acting like a complete dick about it. It almost seemed like she wasn't happy her son was visiting home, ungrateful woman.</p><p>He didn't want to be here either, the snow was disgusting and made his feet hurt. The wind was messing up his meticulously sculpted hair, and all of this brought up less-than-fun memories of the south in general. His only comfort was Mercedes and Melchior practically rolling over each other chasing ravvits and digging holes in the snow.</p><p>No...they weren't there.</p><p>The landscape becomes hazy, wobbly almost. This isn't a landscape, but he can't quite grasp what it is. He shrugs deciding not to think about it too hard. If Mercedes and Melchior weren't there then the hike must've been particularly brutal. Unless he had some other comfort, someone who could warm the coldest steppes.</p><p>
  <em> "Write that down so you don't forget," </em>
</p><p>The voice is an echo in his mind, a memory. He feels it's warmth, the strength and courage and sheer <em> snark </em>it invokes. He chases it, needing that feeling.</p><p>
  <em> "You can show off how tough you are when we run into danger…" </em>
</p><p>He can practically hear the smile in the voice, the laugh rings in his mind as something he's memorised. He spins around blindly in the snow looking for the voice. Morga has long since disappeared into the distance, his dogs weave around his legs in concern.</p><p>
  <em> "Keep your eyes on the horizon, beloved…" </em>
</p><p>The voice is so soft and so close, like a whisper in his ear. He almost breaks down at the memories it stirs. The incredible feeling of safety, the impression of understanding. Support without conditions, never wondering whether it was deserved or begrudging. </p><p>Where had it come from? <em> Where could he find it? </em></p><p>Call him dependent but he can't keep going without that feeling, the one he'd never felt before them, the one he'd never <em> never </em>find again. He runs, looking for any clues, any indication of who he was trying to remember. He trips into a large hole, torn in the ground by an upturned tree. He falls for years seeing only white across his vision.</p><p>Suddenly he's a spectator, only a spectator to them, watching them as they flip cards onto a table for the image of him to interpret. Odd to see himself from an outside perspective, a beetle on the wall. He watches himself petulantly smack the devil's card onto the floor, watching the stranger patiently pick it up. Always so patient with him, did he know them?</p><p>He watches them talk him out of going on a trip without a guide. Watches them have to fetch him like a wandering child when he leaves the group for better water. </p><p>He watched himself when he dumped the water on them, at the time it was funny. He only saw what he wanted to see. Now he could see all the angles out of context, a bird's eye view. He watched as the stranger who seemed to care so much for him in these memories growled scolding words at him. He watched as their face went from shocked to disappointed, but that's not what stung the most. The sight that hurt was after they started shivering so violently, and Lucio started helping them back up the hill. The sight was their face falling from disappointment to a grim kind of acceptance. </p><p>They had expected better from him, and now they knew not to.</p><p>He watches as they stare resigned into the flames, still damp from a stupid prank, while him and his mother argue over the degree to which he screwed up.</p><p>He lands finally, sprawled out in a hole in the ground. The wind whips the snow outside until the very dirt seems to shiver. Mercedes and Melchior climb slowly down into the hole to comfort him, long legs tangling and tripping over themselves. He hugs them close, probably closer than they'd like. He just needs to cling to something. He needs to not be alone, as he is so very alone sitting in that hole. </p><p>Where were you now? How could he have done this to you?</p><p>He couldn't remember who you were or why you mattered but you were his. So deep in his bones he couldn't even escape you here. Alone in the snow with his dogs in the middle of the scourge lands.</p><p>Mercedes wriggles a bit in his grasp, prompting Melchior to do the same. Lucio just hugged them harder, their soft fur so comforting against his skin. They give up eventually, settling in for the begrudging cuddles. Melchior licks at Lucio's ears and Mercedes nudges his hand with her long nose, begging for pats and praise. Despite everything, despite the vein-deep sorrow and loneliness in his soul he feels himself start to smile at his puppies. They'll always be puppies to him, no matter how old they get. He pets them gratefully, his little slices of home. His eyes grow heavy as they lay on top of him, pinning him to the ground and he chuckles through their thick fur. As he falls into sleep he thanks them silently, he couldn't remember why but he really really needed them now.</p><p>When he wakes he almost screams.</p><p>While he slept the everpresent pain and anxiety in his chest gave way to ignorance. He got to forget for a moment the suffocating situation and how helpless it left him. The dream was far from completely pleasant but he found himself immediately missing being asleep. Missing being gone from all this heartache for a while.</p><p>Then the guilt returned.</p><p>He fell asleep, the one thing he promised not to do and he couldn't manage it. He fell asleep while you were on the precipice of death in his arms. What had he missed? What if you'd gotten worse?</p><p>You seemed to have turned over in your sleep, facing away from the fire with your face tucked under his chin.</p><p>You weren't shivering, you weren't moving at all.</p><p>You were cold.</p><p>Lucio's heart stops...one second and then another. Finally it starts again and brings with it a purely disturbing sensation coating his skin like oil. His stomach lurches and his eyes prick with tears as he feels your skin, cool as stone.</p><p>It happened, he could hardly stand the way the thought ground against his skull. Prying him open like a dead mollusk, mercilessly burning what remained.</p><p>Curling around you he found he had no tears, no words, nothing felt like it would matter enough next to the magnitude of what had been lost. He curls his arms around you, buried his face in your chest for a long moment while the world stops spinning. Time stops marching. Life itself ceases.</p><p>…</p><p>…</p><p>You're…</p><p>He can hardly dare to hope for it.</p><p>You're…</p><p>
  <b> <em>Breathing</em> </b>
</p><p>Slow and steady breaths, obviously exhausted, but <em> breathing.  </em></p><p>He pulls away from your chest, pressing his hand to your face, your neck, anywhere to find a pulse. He finds one and the sound of relief he makes could wake the dead, but apparently not you as you merely shift in his grasp and continue sleeping.</p><p>You're not shivering, you're not burning, you're not <em> dead. </em>With an uncontrollable grin, relieved trembles wracking his body he realizes the cause.</p><p>Your fever broke.</p><p>You're going to be ok.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Morga meant what she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whenever any statement passed the woman's lips you could be certain it was a bonafide fact. Tried, true, and sealed in blood. She did not reiterate, she did not take things back, and she did not apologize.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She meant it when she said Montag would die in that storm. She meant every word she said to him that night, all of it was true and if he couldn't handle the truth then that was his weakness. She meant it when she said he'd be better off dead if he was stupid enough to try. The whole world would have been better off with him dead a couple times now. There was no misinformation or miscommunication to regret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet here she was, regretting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been three nights and almost three days since they went their separate days. At first she resolved to set up camp and wait for him to bring his dumbass back. Cold and defeated just like she said. He'd be sad that he couldn't find his little friend, or sad that he managed to find your corpse, and she'd tell him to buck up like she always did. Maybe this time he'd actually learn to pay attention when she spoke, but he never returned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that Morga started looking. He probably holed up somewhere else to get out of the wind. She checked the cave he was so fond of as a kid, as well as the creekbank. He just seemed to be nowhere in the woods. Finally when she'd exhausted everywhere she knew </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>knew, she started getting this feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a feeling she knew well, the urge to go back and do it again. The spiraling nature of thinking maybe this is a trick, something that isn't really happening. The feeling was regret, and it was very familiar when it came to Montag. This time, however, she couldn't place why she was feeling it at all. She didn't make him go out in that blizzard, she didn't kill that kid he was traveling with, she didn't even say anything wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was right after all, he'd die out there and the world would be better off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the regret was unfounded and she refused to acknowledge it. Get out, Get out!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked along the steppe now, looking for remains more than anything. Even though she didn't expect him alive she still called for him, just like she used to when he was young and... controllable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Monty!" Her angry voice never failed to make the brat come running, no matter how badly he didn't want to do his chores.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart sinks a little at the prospect of not hearing a response, of never hearing one again. When he was young he'd return the call with "coming mama!" Or some other cute nonsense that got him beat up by the other kids. When he got older he'd respond with a very moody "whaaaaaat?" But still come back swiftly all the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Monty!" The call strikes the steppe but dies out quickly. The remaining winds from the storm are still harsh, but not nearly as bad as they had been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did not regret telling Monty the truth, but she did regret something. She knew from so many regrets before that ignoring it would not make it go away. She thought as she walked, thought on what she was regretting, what she would take back if she would.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image of her son stomping away into the storm. Stupid and headstrong as he'd always been. She regretted letting him leave, letting him get himself killed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she couldn't regret that, she'd kept him from death all his life and always regretted the coddling. If she regrets it both ways then what is there she can do?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Monty!!" Her call is louder now, more irritated. That stupid boy better not have died, he'd better come back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She made him face death on his own one time and she never sees him again? Never hears his stupid voice or gets to smack him over the head when he screws up? Never again? How's that fair?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did the right thing this time, she shouldn't have to feel the regret anymore. That's how it works dammit!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Monty back here now!" Stupid son with his stupid face she'll never see again. Stupid petulant child can't do anything for himself. Didn't even keep the stupid name she keeps calling, he's probably ignoring her out of spite for using it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"L…" ah it already feels gross in her throat. "Lucio?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response again, ungrateful piece of shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Montag Morgason!" She resumes her regular shouting. She's on her way back now and she's no closer to finding him. She probably never will. Stupid stupid child got himself killed, he couldn't even leave her in peace before dieing. Stomping through the trees she gives up calling, jæger swoops down to land on her shoulder. A comforting weight through her simmering anger and grief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bird flaps his wings incessantly, what the hell did he want?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut it" she was far from in the mood to listen to the birds screaming, but coming upon her stronghold she put his gestures together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone's in her camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dropping to a crouch she stalks along the edges, looking for her prey before she can be spotted. Whoever has the balls enough to raid a scourge camp is surely asking for death. Spear in hand she stalks around her shelter, catching sight of a figure sitting inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grins to herself a bit, she missed this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she lunges, fast and calculating. The figure seems completely unaware until he turns rapidly towards her. Golden claws gripping her spear and stopping her short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's no fucking way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mother!" His voice is strained, his nerves tight as a bowstring. He grips her spear unnecessarily hard while he stares her down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Montag</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" She rips her spear out of her son's metal grip, causing him to jerk forward. He looks like absolute shit, obviously it wasn't strength or skill that saved him from her strike, just some kind of building paranoia.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They settle down after a few shouted questions and some more spear-threats. Lucio relays his struggles and fills Morga in, never moving his human arm from around your shoulders. You've said nothing as you sit beside him, you've got nothing to say really you're just happy to be there.</span>
</p><p>"I figured I'd find you eventually if I went farther into the woods, instead I found this camp. So this is where I brought MC" Lucio finished his story with a shrug, not usually how his stories end.</p><p>
  <span>"So that's all of it?" Morga asks gruffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I was pretty great right?" He puffs himself up as much as he can, though it ends up being rather weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're the stupidest man alive and I'm ashamed to have raised you." Morga remarks, looking away.</span>
</p><p>There's a smile on her sharp lips though and Lucio seems completely unbothered by the harsh response.</p><p>
  <span>"Love you too mama" he mumbles.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments are appreciated, this is a threat</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Can't believe it's over already, this is the swan song for this story. Thank you to everyone for reading and I'll see you in another life.</p><p>❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Finally after way more struggle than any of you thought was necessary, you reach the ruins of the scourge. Well Lucio and Morga reach the ruins, you have to be carried because of your feet. After everything no one even blames you anymore. Lucio takes the opportunity to spin you around in a showy manner, laughing about being your hero for real this time and making Morga almost barf on multiple occasions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was on the walk over, now that you were here it was...kinda sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio looks around at the decrepit buildings and fallen flags. Walking slowly as Morga leads you through what's left of the village.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What... happened here again?" He asks her nervously, he seems perturbed by being face to face with all his tribesmen's deaths. Morga speaks without turning, the pain in her voice is deep, but no longer fresh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was years after you left Monty, we wore our resources to the grounds. Needed to move on and conquer to survive." She explains slowly, telling about the plan to attack the kindly steppe dwellers and pilfer everything they had. "We thought them weak for their ways, but they stood together and stood strong. They lost all their people in the fight and we lost all of ours, only a few stragglers live now to speak of it. No clan to call home." She finishes the story, opening the door to her house to let you pass through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio wrinkles his nose at the ending, stepping past his mother into the house and setting you down gently on a chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But who won?" He asks like she left out a huge detail. She shakes her head, pouring a cup of some liquid from a heavy tankard handing it to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You stare down into the cup, the liquid is clear like water. Good, you're thirsty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mootheeeeeeeer!" Lucio whines when Morga ignores his question. "Who won the fight if everyone died?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you get it Monty, no one did" she snaps, pouring out more of the liquid and passing it to him. He laughs down at it while you take a gulp, realizing just a hair too late why he's laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You choke for several seconds while the vodka burns your throat and nostrils. You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not prepared, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and now you suffered the consequences. Morga chuckles at your foolishness, draining a glass seamlessly and pouring another. Lucio laughs at you outright before getting you some water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When you finally get your bearings you manage to put your cup down. Coughing through your words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No...uhgggh..I don't really drink" you manage. Morga laughs at you now and picks your cup up, handing it back to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trust me kid you're not gonna wanna be sober." And without preamble she crouches to the floor and tugs your boots off. Your socks go next, despite your protests, and the sight of your feet makes you ill. You know why you couldn't walk now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of it's fine but some of your small toes have turned a grisly purple/black color. Morga pokes at your feet and pain lances through you, but when she prods the toes you feel nothing, like they aren't there. Lucio shudders a little at the sight and takes your hand as Morga stands again, she moves her hand to her belt of many tools and produces her carving knife.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh fuck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You drink your vodka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Morga doesn't have any more to drink but she keeps handing you cups. You don't usually drink at all, much less straight vodka and never so much so fast. You have to assume Morga knows what she's doing and you accept each cup without complaint. If only to take your mind off the present state of your toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio reaches for every cup you get hoping it's for him, but Morga cuts him off after his third shot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? I can hold my liquor, you're just stingy" he pouts. Morga cleans her knife as well as your injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You shouldn't be holding it for this Montag, you've done this before. You should be sober to comfort MC" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucio keeps pouting half-drunkenly, but eventually turns his attention back to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>'si</span>
  <span>t gonna hurt?" You slur slightly, you're a bit worried but the alcohol definitely helps to make it feel like it's not such a big deal. Lucio just laughs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course it's gonna hurt, it's cutting off toes" he shakes his head. You drop your head into your lap, trying to get your bearings. Lucio seems to feel bad and tries his reaction again. "Well it's probably not gonna be that bad, I got my arm cut off and I'm fine" he smiles nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're fine…" You look up, giving him a small smile. Emboldened, he continues.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Besides, you're just losing toes. And you're significantly drunker than I was, and your toes are frozen so you can't feel them anyway!" He wraps an arm around you, gesturing with his other one. "You'll be just fine, doll, and I'm here s–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"WhOA!" You jump at the unexpected pinch in your feet, Morga started while you were distracted, clever woman. In one clean swipe of her sharp blade she took off your pinky toe on your left foot. You stare in blank shock where it was, the sluggishly bleeding stump it left. She moves on to the next toe before you have time to process the first, you have just enough time to look away as she slices the next largest toe off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This one hurt a bit more, but honestly it was no worse than a hard pinch. The worst part was the lingering pain, it didn't just go away after she was done. Finally she moves on to the other foot, the pinky toe on this foot should be the last one from what you can see. You squeeze your eyes shut and grip Lucio's hand. This one hurt about as much as the first one and Morga makes quick work of it. When it's over she bandages them snuggly and gives you another drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I gotta say MC you took that like a champ" she appraises. "This one here wouldn't even let me pierce his ear without squirming and whining and carrying on…" she trails off, you try to imagine Lucio asking his mom to pierce his ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have your ears pierced?" You ask him, trying very hard not to think about your toes. Lucio folds his arms beside you and grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Morga answers. "Didn't you here me? he wouldn't let me"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just glad it's over…" you say shakily. Morga looks almost apologetic for the first time and she shakes her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'fraid not little Magician, I've been watching your ears turn grey since you broke into my camp" she remarks. Your hands fly up to cup your ears and you instantly recoil from the pain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're gonna cut off my ears?!" You're in disbelief for a moment, but Morga shakes her head thank the gods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No no just the tips, the top part there's dead. If we don't cut it now we might have to cut off the whole ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh…" you nod in understanding and relief, Morga seems to be giving you a second to collect yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love hand me that leather" you make a request to Lucio, he practically jumps at the chance to help. Dashing across the room and retrieving the leather glove. You thank him and take a deep breath. "Alright let's do this" you say before downing the rest of your vodka and putting the glove in your mouth. You have a feeling ears hurt more than toes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Boy you were right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You can feel yourself squealing a bit as you bite down on the leather. Morga can't cut quite as quickly or cleanly through the awkward cartilage, but she remains focused and you try your best not to squirm. Finally she steps away, spreading some kind of paste onto the fresh cuts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright that'll dry if you stay inside for a while. Practice walking on those feet after they stop hurting as much and you'll be moving fine in no time." She claps you on the back and takes her glove back. "Eh...I needed a new one anyway" she tossed the poor mangled leather onto the table and leaves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's she going?" You ask Lucio, he grimaces at her retreating footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Knowing her? Probably off to kill something to make a new glove"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right now"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You sit in silence for a moment, Lucio taps his metal fingers on the table nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You–"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry!" He blurts the words and they take you by surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For the water thing, I'm sorry, it was dumb and I wouldn't admit it at the time and it almost killed you so I'm sorry." He looks at the ground, shuffling his boots on the wood. You don't know how to respond to such an unorthodox apology. You take his hand and kiss it lightly, leaving him extremely confused and very red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I forgive you" you say simply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just...just like that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just like that" you affirm, tugging his arm so it wraps around you and pulling him down. He drops zealously into your lap and covers your face in kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're too good for anyone" he giggles through his enthusiastic kissing. You pull him close, nuzzling into his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, yes I am" you sigh and sit content for another moment, finally you have something you need to say. "So you made sure I didn't die?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"With everything I had, yeah" you guess the words are sweet but he says them spitefully, like you were arguing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So this whole trip got way out of hand and everyone almost died and in the end there isn't even anything here?" You ask. He sits for a minute, mulling it over. Yeah that's basically how it shook out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhm" he responds simply. You think about why you came out here in the first place, to find something Lucio forgot. Or perhaps to gain something he was supposed to but never did. Lucio took this trip because he was looking for something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you find what you were looking for?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it was Lucio's turn to think. His emotions weren't destroyed anymore, but there were some things that were the same. Death didn't loom as such a terrifying threat, running didn't feel so much as his only option. He proved he could face something, he proved it hard. Even if that something really </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>sucked. He looked at the empty shell that was his home a thousand years ago and didn't see a place he had to run from. It was just a place he couldn't stay, because there's nothing here for him. A place he's ready to move on from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You're still looking at him expectantly. He didn't know what he was looking for when he came down here, but he definitely found a lot more than he thought.</span>
</p><p>Did he find what he was looking for?</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah…" he answers softly, holding you close. Grateful you're alive, grateful for so many things. "I think I did."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone who read through this whole thing, it ended up being way longer than I intended but I think it turned out good. Thank you for all your lovely comments and words of praise and criticism, you really do make writing worth it.</p><p>Special thanks to IAmTheHero for commenting on literally everything I do and being generally really chill and awesome. You're the real one.</p><p>And as always, comments are appreciated.</p><p>This is a threat :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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